Category: philosophical counseling

• May 5, 2012

  A life of words, a life of quiet actions

  I I want to understand myself more fully, and so I have begun taking pictures of myself. Robert Nozick writes that examining one’s life is like painting a self-portrait; I wrote the same about Jane Austen. I took this screen shot on the morning of April 30 around 7:20 a.m. It was then that the…
• May 4, 2012

  Being in love with living

  Over dinner last night she spoke of being in love with living. This morning there is no mist surrounding the hilltop, no rain falling on the opal rocks. The sun is neither out nor hiding and the trees are looking calm. There is a calmness to the morning, our final one here, a steadiness that…
• May 3, 2012

  The Wicca hour

  It is entirely possible that we have been hallucinating since we first arrived on Monday. We saw a bearded woman in a cart being pulled up a hill by a bearded man in a cloak. We nodded at a leery, shady man in a robe who was watching the bearded couple. We passed by an…
• May 2, 2012

  A Gothic afternoon

  For two days, the morning fog has blanketed the hillside rising above the cabin. It is, she is right, a bony, smoky shade. We were standing at the lookout when she said the last. We had hiked up a red clay path on a Gothic afternoon–gray sky, abandoned ruins, blasted trees–only to stop at the…
• May 1, 2012

  On getting away from the city

  I awoke the first time to the sound of falling river. The second time it was to the birdsong calling down the hillside. The falling rain on the cabin roof awoke my feet to floorboards. As I write, the other is still asleep. The delicious pleasure of sitting in contemplation, of being alone and listening…